The Avengers: Defyers of Death
by I'm a Basket Case
Summary: Ten years have passed since the June Rebellion. Eponine, being the lone survivor, rose up to take her leader's place as head of the rebellion. But something happens that sends her life spirling out of control. VERY AU.


**A.N.: This came to me during math class about a week ago. I've been working on it. I hope this intro will hook you all. If not, sorry. I just wanted to have some fun. **

**There is a lot of greek mythology in this. I'll have info about the mythology in the end note.**

**It's very AU. Fair warning. Oh this have nothing to do with Marvel.**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Hugo… Which means I own nothing.**

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**The Avengers: Defyers of Death **

**Chapter 1 Ten Years**

**Paris, France 1842**

They died ten years ago. Every last one. I lost my brother, my best friend, and my leader. They executed my leader before my very eyes. He looked right at me and nodded before the triggers were pulled. It is a message I still hold onto today. It told me to stand up and take his place, which I did. Just like he foretold. "Let the others rise to take our place until the earth is free." That was my call. My turn. My everything. I gathered my own men and resumed where the Les Amis de l'ABC left off.

The day after Enjolras died, I changed my name. Éponine was weak and innocent, just like the old me. The old me died with my leader. It burned away to ash among the ash of the fallen. I didn't mourn. No. I had something to do. I had to rise from their ashes. I took the Greek name Atalanta, the huntress. And Atalanta never mourned over death. Atalanta was the sole female to participate in activities considered only for men. She was the exception.

Just like me.

"Atalanta?" I looked up at see a small boy in the doorway to my room. I smiled and patted the space next to me on the bed. He rushed over and climbs in bed with me.

"It's okay, Iolaüs," I stroked the boy's hair as he curls against my side. Iolaüs was a nickname too. All of the boys in my group had aliases. For our protection. Iolaüs in greek mythology was the nephew of Hercules. He hunted along side Atalanta and aided his uncle on one of his labors. It's fitting for this small boy.

"What happened to your arm?" Iolaüs stared at my nub.

"I lost it a long time ago," I answered, "Now rest."

I was shot during that fateful night. I was found unconscious by a group of nuns who nursed me to health, but at a price. Infection set and they amputated my arm left arm just below the elbow. I was given a state of the art prosthetic limb. I'd made a few adjustments over the years. I can attach a few tool and weapons. I had a sword attachment that comes in handy in close range combat. A club with a spike. Then a rudimentary gripping tool. All the necessities. But the boys don't know. They know I fought, but they don't know much more.

Iolaüs slumbered throughout the night. He reminded me of my little brother, Gavroche, who died during the final battle. The thought of him made my chest tighten. He was so young and so brave.

"I'll protect you, Iolaüs," I whispered softly.

I was not maternal by nature. I had to keep order and not show weakness. The only reason I let Iolaüs sleep with me was because his brother Heracles died a few days ago. He died a heroic death.

We were surrounded by all sides. Guns pointed at my, Heracles's, and our tinker Daedalus's chests. I knew this was the end. Then I'll be with my leader and my friends and my brother again. I closed my eyes and my heart reached out to find them. I heard a bang and expected pain. It never came. A hand grasped my wrist and pulled me along. We escaped. Except for Heracles. He took the bullet made for me. My right hand sacrificed himself for me. Or the cause. He saved me. I will honor his name.

Loud pounding on my door brought me back to reality. Iolaüs woke at the loud noise with a jolt and hid behind me. The door opened and a rat like boy named Calaïs entered my room with his twin brother Zetes in toe. They both wore the same worried expressions.

"We have visitors," Calaïs stated as calmly as he could.

I rose to my feet and grabbed my gun and attach a knife to my prosthetic limb, "What do they want?"

"The want to see a girl named Éponine," Zetes's fear wasn't masked like his brother's. They lead me to the front door of our bunker. The sight I see must be impossible.

_This can't be. _

They boys around me feel my discomfort and instantly grab their weapons. I gesture for them to stand down and step forward.

_Oh here we go. _

I walk up to the young man with glaring eyes that bore into my soul.

"See you answered my call," the boy smiled slightly.

The Amis stood behind their leader. I caught their eyes and knew they didn't recognize me until Enjolras spoke.

"I did."

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**Endnote: **

**Zetes: The North Wind**

**Calaïs: The Southern Wind**

**Daedalus: Tinker who builds the labyrinth where the Minotaur is kept. His story is long but really cool. **


End file.
